


Nobody Steals Baby’s Flame

by Pink_and_Velvet



Series: Hold Tight, Onto Daddy’s Bracelets [14]
Category: Arcadia (UK Band), Duran Duran, Duran Duran (Music Videos)
Genre: A/B/O verse, Album: So Red The Rose (Arcadia), Alternate Universe, Baby, Boats and Ships, Crying, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Happy families, John’s coming out the closet, M/M, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Mummy John to the rescue, Music Videos - Freeform, Pining John, Singing, Softness, The Flame - Freeform, crawling, missing daddy, serenades, single parent, top of the pops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:15:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25781212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pink_and_Velvet/pseuds/Pink_and_Velvet
Summary: The Flameis really a scary video for a one year old, watching Daddy get hurt in a big, mean and scary house. John can tell, all it does is tell his beloved that Daddy’s not there.
Relationships: John Taylor (Duran Duran)/Original Female Character(s), Simon Le Bon/John Taylor (Duran Duran)
Series: Hold Tight, Onto Daddy’s Bracelets [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1573288
Comments: 3
Kudos: 14





	Nobody Steals Baby’s Flame

**Author's Note:**

> This is literally the only totally nice and cute and easy to understand fic in this series... isn’t it?
> 
> I had a blast with this. I keep getting little Barbie scenarios in my head, from a toddler straight through the 90s. I’m very happy with how this turned out.

_John’s Knightsbridge Apartment, London ~ August 8, 1986_

_Takes place right before **Drum** sets sail..._

Lounging back, tossing a hand over his eyes, John clung to the little coos and cries his baby made, as she twisted and turned; lolling about merrily on her play mat.

She hiccuped, John’s head shot up. Turning to her, John couldn’t help but giggle: Barbarella always scared herself when she had been laughing so much that she gave herself the hiccups. He couldn’t help but snigger, as her teeny body convulsed slightly; as her eyebrows furrowed in her confusion.

“It’s okay, baby, you’re okay!” John clapped, grabbing her attention. Stealing her precious focus from _MTV_. “I’ll be right back, you’ll be fine sweetie.”

He upped, palming his stomach as he did so. Barbarella pouted, a true spitting image of baby Nigel, as John whirled around on his Cuban heel and headed out of sight. As he was walking, he couldn’t help but babble back to his baby; who was still content on keeping their conversation going.

Then Barbarella fell silent, the familiar tones of Spandau’s recent hit _Through The Barricades_ flooded the grand foyer from John’s TV set.

John groaned as Barbarella thoroughly switched to the other team, clapping along to Tony Hadley instead of him.

At least he had chosen the perfect moment to use the loo.

When he returned, pickle jar in hand, John was met by a somehow even more familiar yet alien sound. A harsh beat, a thrumming bass line. He frowned, before the grin overtook him; spreading so wide.

**_How do you dare, step into my flame?_ **

There they were, trudging through the smoke, about to enter the haunted house of doom or whatever. Poison arrow, random train ride, poison soup, blindfold and candlelight in sight.

**_One from the heart,_ **

**_One for this precious shining._ **

****

Memories came flooding back. Of how he was involved, how his presence must’ve ensued a collective Duranie sigh of relief.

**_How can you steal my flame?_ **

_“A Power Station dares to invade the gothic void of Arcadia, putting an unceremonious end to their time apart…_ what a news worthy headline, huh Barbie?”

Creeping over, John now caught sight of his baby girl who had abandoned all her toys, Leonard having been thrown far. John cocked his head, trying to piece it together.

She was shimmying, on her leather clad butt. She was dancing, rocking in time. She knew exactly who was on the television, having recognised her Daddy’s voice immediately. She was whining with him too, trying to match his pitch.

John really wished he had his camera on hand, though he let Renée borrow his new favourite for her summer trip back to Denmark. He really wasn’t sure he had seen anything so beautiful before he was reminded, that every new little sound Barbarella made so artfully; would have him tingling in pride and awe all over…

Standing beside the sofa, Barbarella was now fully in John’s line of sight. Now she was crawling, the gasp was caught in his throat, even closer to the television. She couldn’t yet pull herself up, there were too many dangerous wires and silly knobs that would have his beloved more frustrated when she came tumbling back down. Though he eyed her eagerly: wondering if this would be her moment.

John coughed, she snapped her head to him. John smiled broadly, a fully blinding smile full of his blinding white teeth. A look of shock overtook Barbarella, she threw herself back around; for a face full of Daddy and his stupid fake glasses.

They were growing closer to his favourite part. John’s little cameo, bought on so eagerly by his big brother:

_“So, Nicky, what am I doing again? Just hold this and smile like a twat?”_

_“Just do what you do best Johnny: stand there like a pretty twat. You’re coming out the closet, too.”_

“ _What?!_ ” 

He chuckled at the memory, filming his segment so long ago… and now here he was watching the same video with his bouncing baby girl, on the _outside!_

John really had looked a heavily pregnant mess, though thankfully they did shoot above the bloody breasts…

**_Never put my trust in fate,_ **

**_Surprises do arrive so late._ **

****

_Cheeky cheeky Nigel_ grin plastered to his face, John flung himself through the heavy and creaking cupboard doors, contract in hand.

“ _Mumma!_ ” She shrieked as John collapsed into the sofa. Overjoyed to see Mummy in the spotlight.

Before falling back into it, having waggled his brows and beamed at Nick, setting Nick off, smirking.

“Mumma,” she chimed, less enthusiastic than before.

That first time on the set, he had been nauseatingly anxious about running into a certain someone; sneaking about the set, in and out the black door faster than the breeze blowing change in through the doorway.

“Mum-ma?” She questioned the TV, wondering where John had gone.

John still didn’t know what the hell he had signed onto with that binding contract.

“Mumma?”

_Wasn’t it a play on all the legal shit with Andy? Or something?_

Barbarella was now planted right before the set, grabby hands reaching forward to lightly tap the cracking screen. John’s mind was elsewhere by now, palming his ever growing stomach and trying to get comfortable.

_Signing back onto Duran? The Notorious survivors?_

Not even Daddy’s perfectly perfect out of sorts voice could save him for her tears.  
  


Out of nowhere Barbarella burst out crying, crying out in defeat. Mummy was nowhere to be seen. Puzzled, John’s gaze fell back to the TV, watching as the guests were poisoned and falling to the floor. Puzzled, he motioned to Barbarella.

“Baby, what’s wrong? Are they scarin’ you?” He fell to his knees, crawling over to meet her and pull her away from the television. “Barbie?”

She shrugged away, burying her teary face in her hands. She didn’t want to watch anymore.

Confused, John turned the programme off, sneaking up on her side. He called her over and over, she only cried more.

“Barbie, what’s wrong? I’m here, Mummy’s right _here!_ ” He stumbled with his words, grabbing Leonard to waggle him before her flushed face. “Barbie?”

John was now behind her, legs spread and fingertips running up her shaking body. Her shrieks grew silent for a moment, breath hitching as John reeled her in. She was trembling in his grip, little face plastered in tears. Hoisting her up, John shoved their beloved Leonard The Lion into her hands; her bleary opal eyes widened and her tiny mouth fell open.

Though this time, there weren’t any more tears.

“One from the heart,” he waggled Leonard along in time, “one for this precious shi-i-ning.”

John was singing to her, the same lyrics from _The Flame_ rolling off of his tongue ever so softly. Barbarella needed reassurance, that Mummy was still here. That neither Mummy or Daddy could scare her, no matter how scary the evil house where Daddy was trapped may have been.

“Poor baby, did the video scare you?” She nodded, tiny fingertips lurching forward to clasp at John’s hair. “Stupid _Arcadia!_ Scarin’ the power to my station, baby.”

Chuckling softly, John dipped his head, making it easier to clasp at his brunette ringlets.

“Don’t be frightened Barbie. You know Mummy’s right here… oh!”  
  


_You idiot. You popped out of the cupboard and left again! That’s why she started crying!_

“How can you steeeeeaallll…” he engulfed a stupidly large breath, “myyy-yyyy flaaa-yy-ya-ya-ya—aa- _ame_?!”

Cursing himself, John hadn’t even began to realise just how creepy _The Flame_ video must be for Barbarella.

_She misses you._

“It truly is a peculiar piece of art.” John could tell, having once known Nick better than any one else; that it really was the epitome of the _Arcadia_ brand at its finest.

Confusing, tacky, gothic, scary. All round haunted house. Rocky Horror.

_Nicholas Bates._

No wonder his one year old was petrified.

John reeled her in nice and tight, together they were rocking softly as the last of Barbarella’s cries turned to choked off sobs and hiccups, John’s heart beginning to slip free from the vice that kept it.

“I’m right here, luv, I’m not lettin’ you go.”

_She misses Daddy._

“Mummy wuvs you, baby,” he kissed it into her forehead, lightly sweeping the final tears from her face. “More than anything, you know?”

_But what else is new?_

“I miss… Daddy, too,” it was wistful, barely audible; though somehow John had screamed loud enough that Barbarella’s full attention was now on him. “But he’s on his boat, at sea. Right where he _belongs_.”

Her huge beady brown eyes fixed onto his, she pouted before dropping her gaze. Always over expressive and emotional; John could sense the hurt before her vocal could show it.

“Dad- _da_ ,” she chimed in sorrow.

Before she had the chance to cry again, John hugged her so tight that it must be hurting; though she didn’t seem to mind. Pressing her lightly into his shoulder, John bobbed his baby softly, shushing her, serenading her with the final lyrics.

A tender hand in her gleaming blonde hair, Leonard in her teeny grip, John rocked Barbarella softly; knowing that she was coming undone on his shoulder pad.

“Shush shush,” he massaged her back with small and circular ministrations, “tomorrow. We’ll see Daddy tomorrow, luv.”

“Dadda?” She questioned, it was slightly muffled.

Kissing the back of her head, John insisted on telling her the plans for tomorrow. Simon would be returning, with a fresh tan and swing in his step. Ready to dance the night away with his baby girl Rio.

“We’ll all be on Daddy’s boat soon enough, I can’t wait for you to go sailing again,” he whispered, massaging her back.

Within minutes, Barbarella was dozing, resting softly on John’s springy shoulder pad. Thankfully, she was safe from the scary _Arcadia_ world and the harrowing videos that told her Daddy wasn’t there.

“Tomorrow baby, Daddy loves you. No matter _where_ he is.” It fell off of his lips as he panted softly, stomach in knots.

John hoped, pulling Barbarella’s lacy black cardigan off to pray, that Simon was right there in her dreams, comforting her in his own, special way.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy (early) Duran Duran Appreciation Day, 2020!! 🖤


End file.
